


Fake it to Make it

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorian's family is complicated, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4096978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's returning to visit his family in an attempt to reconcile only he might have told have told them he was bringing his boyfriend and the friend who had agreed to come with him had to cancel. Fortunately, Varric is there to supply another man willing to play the role, none other than the Iron Bull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I've never written a fake dating fic before. This is the greatest trope of all time.

Bull hadn’t been exactly sure what to expect when he had got a call from Varric saying he had a friend who needed Bull to pretend to be his boyfriend for a family dinner, but the handsome, well dressed ‘vint leaning against the block of flats he had been given the address to was certain one of the last things he would have guessed. If nothing else he hardly looked like the sort of man who would struggle to get a date and certainly not the sort that would do better with an equally handsome man at his side at some fancy cocktail party rather than the sort of man to slum it with a Qunari. 

Unless, Bull supposed, that was the entire point. Maybe he was here to upset some rich boy’s daddy.

Bull pulled his car over to the curb and climbed out, giving Dorian a warm smile as he rounded the car. “You must be Dorian, I’m the Iron Bull.”

“Varric sent me a Qunari? A Qunari? Really?” The way he spoke would have given away his rich upbringing even if his clothes and posture hadn’t. Even his precise pronunciation and accent aside, no one other than a Tevinter noble could get that much distaste into their tone.

Bull didn’t frown but he thought about it. He was used to comments about his race, as he was sure Dorian was used to comments about his homeland, but he had assumed Dorian had already known he was a Qunari.

“Is that going to be a problem?” He asked.

“I don’t know, is it?” Dorian snapped, eyeing Bull up like Bull was only a heartbeat away from lunging at him and snapping his neck.

“I guess that depends on how big the hotel bed we’re sharing is. I take up a lot of space,” Bull said with a wicked grin, coming to stop in front of Dorian.

Dorian startled and then went a delightful shade of red. He made a disgusted noise and turned quickly away to fuss with his bag, conveniently hiding his face.

“How much did Varric tell you about what I needed you for,” Dorian asked, still looking down at his bag.

“Not much,” Bull admitted. “Only that you needed someone to pretend to be your partner for an evening with the family.”

“Yes, well.” Dorian hauled his bag up and onto his shoulder. It was certainly bigger than Bull’s own bag and he couldn’t help but wonder how much luggage one man needed for dinner and one night in a hotel.

“Gonna tell me the rest?” Bull asked, taking Dorian’s bag off him to carry it back to the car. Dorian looked thrown by the gesture but didn’t say anything.

“I’m gay,” Dorian said, standing by the passenger door, very deliberately not looking at Bull while he spoke.

“I had assumed.” Bull could imagine where this was going.

“My family don’t approve and eventually the differing opinions of what my future should be regarding this issue proved too much and I left. We haven’t been in contact since.” Bull had to respect a man who could discuss painful history as though talking about the weather, though if you knew what to look for, and Bull did, there was a slight tightness to Dorian’s voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Uh huh.” Bull opened his boot and placed Dorian’s bag next to his own. He closed the boot and climbed into the front seat, Dorian joining him a moment later.

“My father has recently made attempts to rekindle our relationship and seek my forgiveness; this dinner is the latest part of that I suppose. Considering I left in part so I could be open about who I am and be with who I want to be with I can’t show up to this dinner alone. It would feel like defeat.” Dorian noticeably swallowed, looking distant. “I had a friend who was willing to play the part but there was a family emergency that required his immediate attention.”

“That’s where I come in?”

Bull pulled the car out onto the road, following signs for the motorway. They had a reasonably early start but the weather forecast wasn’t as good as he might like, especially in the northern rainy season, and he wanted to cover as much ground as he could before it had a chance to turn.

It was a long drive, really too long to make and then be expected to make polite company but Varric had told him Dorian wanted to spend as little time up north as possible and Bull supposed he could relate. He was used to long drives anyway, and while he got the impression Dorian might not be at least he would be able to nap in the passenger seat. 

Dorian made a face. “I suppose so. Varric said he had a friend who owed him a favour and would be willing to help me out. I realise now I should have known he was planning something like this.”

“Something like this?” Bull asked, grinning despite himself. Dorian was such a typical ‘vint; winding him up was going to be too easy.

“I doubt a one-eyed, seven foot Qunari, at least ten years my senior, and with all the dress sense of a colour blind Ferelden is going to help mend bridges with my father.” Dorian spoke like he was preforming, Bull noted. Every sentence was accented and punctuated with precise hand gestures and his face was too expressive though the moustache helped distract from that a little. Bull wondered if that was why Dorian had grown it or if it was purely to make him look a little older. “Not to mention,” Dorian continued, “that by the looks of you for favourite pastime is lifting heavy things and putting them down. I don’t suppose you are a manual labourer?” 

“I was in the army actually.” Bull kept his eyes on the road. Dorian was being rude but he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it yet. Dorian had the same holier-than-thou attitude that any of his privilege had and he certainly wasn’t bothering to hide his distaste for Bull’s kind. However, Bull didn’t get the impression that he meant any harm by it. Dorian was just running his mouth, whether due to nerves or just because of who he was a person, and Bull was feeling generous. He’d give the posh Tevinter the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” Dorian snapped, sinking lower in his seat. “So you’re a one eyed, seven foot Qunari who’s killed my countrymen.

“You forgot the comment about my clothes this time, they growing on you already?” 

“And it thinks it’s funny.” Dorian threw up his hands in disgust. “This couldn’t get any worse.”

“Don’t say that just yet, I haven’t told you about why they call me the Iron Bull. It doesn’t have as much to do with the horns as you’d think.” Bull poured just enough suggestiveness into his tone to get his meaning across. He glanced sideways to catch Dorian’s expression. Bull didn’t even feel bad for the teasing; Dorian had started it by calling him an it. Just because he was going to play nice didn’t mean he couldn’t play at all.

Dorian looked like he had just eaten Drufflo shit but that it had turned out to be pretty good. 

\---

“So how do you want me to play this?” Bull asked after a while. Dorian had dropped his head against the window and was staring out at the passing countryside. They had made a few more attempts at conversation, most of which had gone rather well until Dorian said something that left Bull too good of an opening and Dorian would flush and sulk for a while before they talked again. Dorian kept pushing though, which Bull couldn’t’ help but feel was encouraging. 

However, despite these semi-successful conversations Dorian was clearly on edge and distracted by whatever thoughts were churning over in his head and Bull was happy to drive in silence anyway. 

“Excuse me?” Dorian raised head to look at Bull. The front of Dorian’s hair was a little flat against his head from where it had been pressed against the window but Bull decided not to comment. 

“With your family. What kind of boyfriend where you planning on bringing home to meet the folks?” Bull asked.

“I don’t know, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” A crease appeared between Dorian’s eyes, one that would one day surely become a wrinkle, when he frowned. “When it was Felix I was just planning on acting like we normally do. I was hoping it would be easier having a friend there.”

Bull couldn’t relate entirely, not having parents of his own, but he tried to picture having to face his Tama now he had been declared Tal-Vashoth and imagined the churning in his gut was similar to how Dorian must feel at the prospect of facing his parents.

“That doesn’t really answer my question. Are you aiming to piss them off or start mending your relationship?”

“I honestly don’t know if how we act will make any difference.” Dorian let at a long sigh and dropped his head back against the window, but when Bull glanced over he could see that Dorian was still looking at him in the reflection of the glass. “My mother will disapprove no matter what, because I’m disobeying, because you’re a Qunari, she’ll make up as many reasons as she has to. She lost interest in me as person beyond my role as a political piece the moment she realised I preferred my father.”

“Are humans meant to have favourite parents? Are married humans meant to get bitter when someone likes their partner better?” Bull was beginning to remember why he found fighting against Tevinter so easy.

“Probably not.” A man as pretty as Dorian shouldn’t look so subtly sad so much of the time, Bull thought. “My parents never really got along though and I was another way of beating each other.”

“Then what’s the fucking point of getting married?” Bull asked, though he already knew the answer.

Dorian shrugged in a way that suggested exhaustion rather than lack of knowledge. “It’s Tevinter” he said as though that explained it. To be fair, Bull realised, it mostly did.

“Either way, my mother is a lost cause. My father claims he wants to patch things up between us but I don’t know. I can’t help but think it’s another trick but I’ve been paranoid ever since he almost submitted me to a risky and very illegal, trial procedure to make me straight.” Dorian gave a bitter laugh but Bull didn’t find it even a little funny. “I do hope he’s serious about his intentions to try and make amends with me though.”

“Want me to play nice then? Perfect, loving boyfriend?” There were certainly worse fates than pretending to date Dorian.

“Are you capable of that?” Dorian asked, eyeing Bull up sceptically.

“Hey now, I can be very charming,” Bull insisted.

Dorian raised a single, shaped eyebrow.

“All right then, let’s just be nice, polite, and keep it to just enough PDA to be believable. I mostly just want this day to be over.” Dorian looked away from Bull’s refection.

“Sounds good, Honey.”

“I’m already regretting this,” Dorian announced but Bull would have sworn he was smiling just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will likely take longer because I'm going camping but I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy and thank you so much for the enthusiastic response to the first chapter.

They stopped for lunch just over half way there. Bull had chosen the place, but Dorian wasn’t going to complain, he was mostly just pleased to be given the opportunity to stretch his legs after hours cramped in the car. Bull’s car wasn’t small, it couldn’t be considering its owner, but Dorian was still grateful to be able to walk around a little.

He stumbled out of the car with a contented groan , catching Bull’s amused smile but choosing not to comment; Bull would only say some lewd comment at his expense, and until Dorian had figured out why Bull was mocking him he’d rather avoid that. 

Bull climbed out of the car with much less fanfare and started to lead the way towards the restaurant, though that was an optimistic name for the place. Dorian wasn’t sure how Bull did it. Dorian wasn’t exactly a big man and he struggled being cramped in a car for so long; it must be so much worse for Bull. Then again, he also seemed excited about the greasy food the place was surely going to provide, so maybe comparing him to sensible people was a waste of time.

“See something you like?” 

Dorian could only hope the heat he felt on his cheeks wasn’t visible.

Qunari might be barbarians and enemies of the Imperium, a place he still felt loyalty to despite everything, but Dorian was painfully aware that he had a type. He liked them big and giving off the impression they could toss Dorian around if they wanted, or at the very least pin him to the bed with enough ease that Dorian could make a real struggle against the hold. These were characteristics that most Qunari, and Bull in particular, fell into perfectly. 

Dorian was just glad his personality was so off putting or he might have been in trouble. He also reminded himself that Bull had no idea he found him attractive, and that the flirting was meant to annoy him, not as a serious come on.

Dorian sniffed. “You certainly think a lot of yourself.”

Bull grinned and flexed slightly. “I know how good I look ‘Vint, I’m used to people staring.”

“I don’t think they are staring for the reason you think, it likely has far more to do with wondering how one man can create such a smell, rather than because of any imagined charms.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about my supposed stink when we were in the car,” Bull was still grinning, but the slightly predatory edge that normally appeared when he was baiting Dorian had gone, and Bull just looked cheerful like he was enjoying the back and forth. 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Dorian said.

Bull grinned again but threw out an arm to stop Dorian from entering the restaurant. 

“Want to practice?” Bull asked with a glint in his eye that made Dorian a little weary. 

“Practice? Being rude?” Dorian asked, “I assure you I don’t need practice, I just know better.”

Bull snorted. “Practice pretending to be dating.”

Dorian stood in stunned silence for a second before Bull started to guide him forward.

“I’m not really sure that’s necessary,” Dorian protested but Bull’s arm was already around his shoulder and they were inside the building. Dorian contemplated pulling away for a moment, but Bull wasn’t exactly doing any harm, and the heavy weight on his shoulders was pleasant.

A dark haired waitress bounded up to them with a bright smile. “Table for two?” She asked and Dorian couldn’t tell if he was imagining the slight knowingness in her expression. 

Bull confirmed their number and the girl lead them over to a booth, giving them the opening greeting and leaving them to look over the menus so she could be aggressively cheerful to some other customers. 

“What are you thinking of getting, sweetheart?” Bull asked. Dorian started at the endearment, and was grateful that Bull did not look up. Unlike earlier, when it had clearly been used to annoy him, this time it sounded casual and genuine; Dorian couldn’t remember if anyone had ever said anything like that to him when they weren’t chatting him up at a bar or trying to remain awkwardly friendly as Dorian hurriedly dressed and grabbed his thing the morning after a one night stand. It felt nice, even if it wasn’t real.

“I’m not sure, roadside dinners aren’t exactly my usual first choice for food,” Dorian said with a sniff.

Bull snorted with laughter and continued looking at his menu. “I can imagine. Used to the best it would seem.”

Dorian sighed. “Is that so bad?”

“No, just what I expected from a pampered ‘Vint.” Bull was smiling and Dorian knew he was being teased but he couldn’t help but rise to the bait. 

“I’m hardly pampered; I’ve been living on my own, and paying my own way for years now.”

“What ever you say, Duck.” 

Whatever response Dorian might have given was cut off by Bull reaching across the table and taking one of Dorian’s hands with his own. Dorian blinked down at Bull’s hand for a moment, speechless. Bull started rubbing his thumb across Dorian’s knuckles at the same time the waitress returned for their orders.

“I’ll have a lemonade,” Bull smiled, “and the cheese burger with bacon. Thanks”

Bull’s thumb was still stroking back and forth over Dorian’s hand and Dorian was having a hard time focusing on anything else. It took him an embarrassing moment to realise both Bull and the waitress were looking at him expectantly. 

“Oh… I’ll have the… The soup and salad, and some bottled water.” Dorian stammered.

“Bottled water?” Bull asked, “Tap not good enough for you?”

Dorian didn’t respond and pulled his hand back, resolutely not meeting Bull’s concerned look. It was pathetic that he was so starved for affection that he was getting so thrown by someone holding his hand.

He had left Tevinter in part to have the opportunity to engage in actual relationships, but, in part because of his own failings, it had never seemed to work out that way. Instead he continued his long trend of one night stands and prostitutes. The only thing that had changed was that he could be slightly less secretive about it.

“You going to tell me what the matter is?” Bull asked. Dorian wondered what Bull would do if Bull said he didn’t want to tell him; he suspected Bull would drop the matter and he didn’t know how that made him feel. Saying he didn’t want to talk about it would cause Bull to wonder and Dorian would rather he didn’t.

“I broke up with my partner recently,” Dorian lied. “You acting like this just made me think about him. I’m fine.”

Bull’s expression didn’t change so Dorian assumed he’d got away with the lie. Bull changed the subject and they made small talk until their food arrived.

“We should cover basic information about our relationship, so we agree if your family asks,” Bull said after they had been eating in near silence for a while. Dorian had spent much of that time staring in horror at the messy way Bull consumed food but found himself completely unable to look away.

“That’s not actually a bad idea,” Dorian admitted.

“You sound surprised.” Bull was wiping up grease and sauce that had escaped his burger with some of his chips.

“I am.” 

“Surprised a savage Qunari could come up with it?” Bull looked up, meeting Dorian’s eye.

“Not that a Qunari came up with it, surprised that you did.” Dorian said, smirking.

Bull laughed, but was smiling in a way that made Dorian think that comment would come back to bite him later. 

“So, now that we are done insulting me, had you-”

“I’m not even close to done,” Dorian challenged. 

“I bet you aren’t,” Bull said with a leer and Dorian found himself too flustered to come up with a response in time.

“So, now that we are done insulting me, had you thought about how we started our whirlwind romance?”

“I think we should keep it simple, easy to remember.”

“Always a good idea,” Bull agreed and Dorian had the odd impression Bull was testing him, like what answers he give would actually colour Bull’s opinion of him.

“What if Varric set us up on a date?”

“That’s good.” Bull sounded genuinely approving. “The best lies, and the easiest to remember, are based on truth. How long have we been dating?”

Dorian didn’t pause and said the first thing that came to mind. “About eighteen months. We started dating on the 25th of Ferventis.”

“Did we do anything for our anniversary?” Bull asked.

“Hardly seems fair that I have to have all the answers. I don’t know, did we?” Dorian asked, but he felt strangely warm. It was oddly enjoyable to create a pretend relationship. He reached back across the distance between them to take Bull’s hand before he could think better of it. Bull smiled at him like he was the reason puppies existed.

“I took you to that five-star restaurant, L’Arpège, and I had the chef’s choice and shared some of their famous chocolate cake for dessert. Then we walked in the park and watched the stars by the fountain.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“It was,” Bull said. “You’re very lucky to have me.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Do we live together?”

“Not officially, but you’ve been slowly moving all of your things to my place,” Bull reached over and picked some Dorian’s salad off his plate. Dorian narrowed his eyes, despite clearly being finished, but allowed Bull to continue.

“Like I would do that,” Dorian scoffed. “I would just tell you I was moving in.”

“If thinking that makes you happy, you’re welcome to it. Do we have a pet?” Bull asked before Dorian could argue anymore.

“Why not, we are so nauseatingly domestic all ready. I like snakes and lizards but I can settle for a cat I you insist on something fluffy.”

“Cat then,” Bull said, “Tabby, called Dragon.”

“We’re not calling the cat Dragon, that’s absurd.” Dorian said.

“Vinsomer?”

“No.”

“Ravager?” 

“We’re not naming it anything to do with dragons, it’s a cat, you are the one that wanted something fluffy,” Dorian insisted but he was fighting a smile.

“Dorian Jr.?” 

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh. “Never. We’ll call her Claudia.”

Bull made a face. “That’s very Tevinter.”

“Exactly, it’s dignified.” Dorian insisted. 

“I’m sure I only allowed that because you complained very loudly.”

“Naturally.” Dorian smiled. “I’m very demanding.”

“I’ll bet.”

Dorian snorted and covered his mouth quickly as though that could undo the sound.

They were quiet as Bull finished Dorian’s plate and they asked for the bill.

“You know my parents aren’t going to care about any of this,” Dorian said, leaning back in his chair and taking a mouthful of water.

Bull shrugged. “It was fun to think about it. It’s not every day that you get to invent a life for yourself, or at least not something I have had to do in a long time.” He paused before continuing following Dorian’s questioning look. “My job in the military involved some fake backgrounds.”

“You said you used to be in the army, so what exactly is it you do now?” Dorian asked, sensing this wasn’t something he should pry into no matter how much he might want to.

“I’m a chef, I run a couple of high end restaurants in Skyhold,” Bull said with straight face and Dorian stared at him for a few seconds before deciding he wasn’t joking.

“Are you good?” Dorian asked slowly, trying very hard to picture Bull in an apron and chef’s hat. He coughed and stopped when his mind helpfully offered up the image of Bull in the apron and hat and nothing else.

“I’m very good,” Bull said, sounding very proud. “You look confused.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t exactly look at you and think chef.”

“There are more guys like me in the business than you’d think.”

“If you say so,” Dorian said.

“What do you do then? Because we’re sharing now.”

“I’m working on my second PhD.” Dorian tried very hard to sound casual but he was watching carefully for a response. He knew he cared far too much about whether people new how clever he was.

“Second?” Bull looked impressed. “What are they in?”

“The one I have is in history; the one I’m getting is Physics.”

“That’s quite the range.”

“I’m interested in a lot of things,” Dorian said, looking up as the waitress returned.

Dorian reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet but Bull beat him too it, laying down enough cash to cover both of their meals and a tip.

“Varric said you were paying for petrol and the hotel, let me cover lunch. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did otherwise?” Bull said, placing the money into the folder and closing it.

Dorian still felt like he should argue the point, but he huffed instead and stood, heading back out to the car. Dorian climbed in, not waiting for Bull this time, silent again. The meal had been distracting enough that he had forgotten what was ahead of him, but now that it was over the nervous churning in his gut was back.

He had no idea how this dinner was going to turn out, or how he wanted it to turn out. He had walked away from his family before. If he wasn’t convinced his father had turned over a new leaf he could walk away again, but while there would be a certain closure in knowing for certain that leaving was the right thing to do, there was also an appeal to the harder path of trying to find a place for his family in his new life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Bull asked after they had driven in silence for a while, and Dorian could see Bull’s reflection in the window. He looked mildly concerned, but despite Bull’s good intentions there really wasn’t anything to be done.

“There’s really nothing to say.”

Bull looked back at the road. “Well, if you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

Dorian realised he was right about Bull not pushing if Dorian didn’t share willingly; somehow, that didn’t make him feel better. He didn’t want to talk about it but he didn’t want to sit in silence again. He tried to find a new topic of conversation, but found himself drawing a blank, and eventually gave up.

He stared out at the passing country side, and wished for the easy conversation of the diner when they weren’t edging closer to his family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this trope so much. This fic is so self-indulgent and you are all awful for encouraging me.
> 
> Thanks to Cassandrashipsit on tumblr for beta-ing this, I appreciate it.
> 
> Also, on a different note, I realised that I called the imaginary cat Livia, intending for her to be named for the Roman Emperor Augustus' wife. I realised that it was the name of Dorian's betrothal... So... The cat is now named Claudia. The chances of it ever coming up again are very, very low.

Bull wasn’t sure what to make of Dorian. There was certainly more to him than the pampered, rich exterior that Bull had first seen and Dorian seemed to actively encourage. Then again, there generally was more to people than first appeared.

 

Dorian had gone back to staring out of the window blankly, and Bull was a little disappointed. Dorian had relaxed a somewhat while they were eating and had let some of his carefully constructed walls down just a bit. Bull had enjoyed talking to Dorian, enjoyed it more than as someone to trade quips with but as someone he might invite to drink with his dodgeball team, the Chargers.

 

To see him close up again was frustrating.

 

“Mind if I find us some music?” Bull asked, hand hovering over the radio controls but waiting for confirm Dorian didn’t mind. Now he knew what Dorian could be like, the silence was less acceptable than before.

 

“Please, don’t let me stop you,” Dorian said, not looking over at Bull.

 

“Any preferences?” Bull asked, turning on the radio and starting to flick between stations; they were out of range of any of his normal ones.

 

“Whatever you would rather,” Dorian insisted, seeming only barely interested in the conversation. Bull wondered how he could bring back the more relaxed Dorian of the diner; it was something he could continue to work on as they drove.

 

Bull settled on a station that promised a pleasing mix of genres, which suited him just fine.

 

Dorian mostly ignored the music, only turning to shoot Bull a disgusted looked whenever he hummed along to something particularly poppy or obnoxious.

 

“You said you didn’t have a preference,” Bull reminded him.

 

Dorian let out an impressive sigh. “Well I certainly won’t make that mistake again.” He fell silent, head falling back against the window and eyes going slightly glassy.

 

Bull noticed Dorian’s attention shift back a little while later when a new song came on the radio.

 

Dorian lifted his head from the window and shifted so he sat straight in his seat, suddenly attentive. If he had been a Qunari his ears would have perked up. He reached over and placed his hand on the volume control and looked at Bull. He nodded, wanting to see where Dorian was going with this.

 

Dorian twisted the volume up, way past normal acceptable levels. He relaxed back in the seat with a contented smile.

 

“I love this song,” Dorian said, speaking at a normal volume but it sounded quite in comparison to the music.

 

He tapped his fingers on the door of the car in time to the music, full lips mouthing along to the lyrics. He wasn’t looking at Bull but he was no longer staring out of the side window, simply looking ahead at the road. It didn’t feel as much like avoidance as when Dorian twisting his whole body away from Bull to watch the landscape did.

 

Bull decided to push his luck; he liked the song too, after all.

 

Bull wasn’t a great singer but what he lacked in talent he made up for in enthusiasm and volume. Dorian turned to stare at him and for a moment Bull was worried he’d misstepped, before Dorian let out a resigned huff and joined in.

 

Dorian was a better singer than Bull, he was actually very good, but the song was clearly not in his range and he missed many of the higher notes just as badly as Bull.

 

They sang loudly, belting out the lyrics to hear themselves over the music, far too loud for the inside of the car, but Dorian didn’t seem to care, and Bull certainly didn’t.

 

Dorian laughed as they both hit a note off key, in spectacularly different ways, causing them to miss the next few words as they recovered from the laughter.

 

Dorian looked happy. More than that he looked younger, like someone had gone through and removed years of stress from him. Dorian had smiled and even laughed already that day but Bull hadn’t realised how carefully controlled even his cheerfulness was until Dorian completely relaxed.

 

Bull had to wonder exactly what was waiting for them in Tevinter and the full extent of the damage Dorian’s family had done to him to cause Dorian to need such masks.

 

The song ended but Dorian dug his iPod out of his pocket and plugged it in, setting up a playlist of similar sounding music.

  
Despite Bull’s preference for the radio, he let Dorian have control. It was worth it to see Dorian relax a little and let at least some of the tension leave him. It was good music as well.

 

The volume was turned down a little, still loud, but certainly at a more reasonable level and they continued to sing through Dorian’s playlist before Bull’s phone was pulled out and they moved on to his music instead. Dorian dutifully switched between their devices and music.

 

They continued like that for almost two hours, singing enthusiastically to the songs and teasing each other about their tastes. Dorian dozed off a little after that, head back against the window, iPod clutched in one hand. Bull turned the volume down but left Dorian’s music playing.

 

He would have preferred Dorian remain awake, he was good company, but they were still several hours away and Dorian was likely to be tired from travelling all day when they did get there. Bull was used to long drives, he knew he could manage. Dorian on the other hand, would need all the rest he could manage in preparation for dealing with his family.

 

Dorian slept as Bull continued to drive them north, flicking back occasionally to the radio to check the weather before returning to Dorian’s music. Heavy rain was promised during the night, and this far north during the rainy season that could make the drive back a little unpleasant.

 

Dorian woke, finally, about twenty miles out. He groaned and rolled his neck which cracked loudly. He seemed fairly at ease despite that and threw Bull a smile.

 

“We’ll be at the hotel soon,” Bull said and all the tension that Dorian had managed to shed with the singing, plus a little more, almost visibly slammed back into Dorian’s posture. He clenched his hands into fists so tight his knuckles went white, and he stared furiously ahead, jaw clenched and breath coming short and sharp.

 

“You all right there, Big Guy?” Bull asked.

 

Dorian nodded, but didn’t say anything.

 

Bull didn’t sigh aloud, but he thought about it. If Dorian didn’t want to talk then Bull couldn’t make him and he doubted forcing him would make Dorian feel better.

 

“Want to turn on the GPS? I’m going to need it to find the hotel; I don’t know this city at all,” Bull said, changing the subject so Dorian didn’t have to.

 

“I know the way,” Dorian said, strain clear in his voice. “I grew up here.”

 

“When were you last here,” Bull asked, aware he might not get an answer.

 

“It’s been years.” Dorian sounded wistful. “I moved around a lot when I was in school and university. After I graduated I went west to start on my PhD and I never made it back.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“My father came to visit me and we fell out. My supervisor and I disagreed very soon after and I had to go south to remove myself from my family’s influence, since I no longer had the university to hide behind. I finished my first PhD down there and started my second.”

 

Bull placed a hand on Dorian’s knee and Dorian flinched away sharply before muttering an apology.

 

“I didn’t expect you to tell me,” Bull admitted, softly.

 

Dorian shrugged and let out a hollow, humourless laugh. “You are about to meet my family, you’re going to see far more of my messy background than that. Turn left here.”

 

Bull almost missed the turning with the suddenness that Dorian changed topics, but if Dorian had any feelings on the sharp turn he kept quiet.

 

Bull could sympathise with missing home. Now he wasn’t part of the Qun he missed Par Vollen and even Seheron fiercely. He wasn’t sure if a self imposed banishment was better or worse.

 

Dorian had run out of patience for conversation and fell back into giving clipped directions and monosyllabic answers to any questions he was asked. Bull leaned over and turned off the music.

 

“I’ll check us in,” Dorian said after Bull had parked, the first words he had offered voluntarily since he had spoken a little more about his past. “A lot of people up north still don’t trust Qunari, and I’d rather avoid a scene this early in the evening.”

 

“Like you?” Bull asked smirking, watching for Dorian’s response carefully. It was hard to judge how he might respond to teasing in this mood.

 

Dorian eyed him carefully. “There _might_ be an exception or two.”

 

Bull snorted. “I’m honoured.”

 

\---

 

Dorian showered first and took longer than was reasonable, even considering the attention he clearly paid to his appearance, but Bull didn’t even consider rushing him. He could almost picture Dorian fussing over his appearance with likely near obsessive care, as if how he looked would affect how things went down with his family. He didn’t fault him despite the illogic of his actions; Bull had seen men do far stranger things before going into battle.

 

Dorian brushed passed without a word when he was done in the bathroom, and collected the clothes he had set out on one of the Queen beds. He started to get dressed while Bull took over the bathroom.

 

Bull, in contrast, showered quickly and with minimal fuss, but chose to get dressed in the bathroom instead of re-joining Dorian in the main room. Dorian seemed like he could use the time alone.

 

Bull carefully put on a white shirt and dark slacks; his tie, shoes and jacket still in the other room. He would have liked to keep on his colourful, baggy trousers, if only to see Dorian’s face, but the ‘Vint was tense enough already. Varric had made it clear when he had asked Bull for the favour, that half arsing this wasn’t an option.

 

Dorian was mostly ready by the time Bull left the bathroom, and he looked good, really good. His hair was back to the perfect style it had been when Bull had first met him, before Dorian had spent several hundred miles with his head pressed against the car window, completely flattening one side.

 

He was wearing a white shirt, rolled up to the elbow, and a black waistcoat. The shirt collar was undone a button at the top and he wasn’t wearing a tie. He had perfected making the smart casual look appear effortless. Some of his piercings had been removed, like the gold septum piercing, and many of the others had been replaced with plainer rings. In contrast the rolled sleeves showed off some subtle swirling tattoos on his forearms.

 

Bull chose not to comment on what he thought Dorian was doing.

 

“You look good,” he said instead and Dorian scoffed.

 

“Of course I do.” But there was a hint of nerves well hidden in his tone. He was carefully putting his things back into his bag as he finished with them.

 

“Bet you look better out of your clothes,” Bull said with a leer, because teasing Dorian was far too much fun, and he had poor impulse control.

 

Dorian went a little red but jutted his chin up, glaring at Bull. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

Bull chuckled but let the matter rest, following Dorian’s lead and packing his own stuff back into his bag.

 

They both finished with just enough time to get over to the Pavus estate without being late. It was another half hour drive out from the city, and they were already only on the edge of town.

 

There was just one more matter Bull wanted to address before they left.

 

“You going to be all right kissing me?” He asked, and Dorian whipped around looking startled before his brain seemed to catch up with why he had been asked that.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dorian demanded.

 

“I just meant if you had some unhappy reminders of your last relationship from hand holding, how will you respond to kissing?” Bull backtracked quickly. He didn’t buy the ex-boyfriend story for a moment but if Dorian didn’t want to talk about his issues Bull wasn’t going to make him; they might not ever see each other again after tomorrow, there was no point digging through Dorian’s head.

 

The thought made Bull a little sad, if he was being honest.

 

“Oh, right. Of course.” Dorian’s outrage deflated. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

 

“Either way, if the first time we kiss is with an audience…”

 

Dorian swallowed. “What are you suggesting?”

 

“Come here a moment.” Bull was aware he’d allowed his voice to drop low.

 

Dorian looked stunned for a second before he took a step towards Bull, and then another until there were only a couple of inches between them. Bull could see the nervous fluttering of Dorian’s pulse and the darkening of his eyes.

 

There was a little awkwardness while they arranged themselves, the exact awkwardness Bull had wanted to avoid in front of Dorian’s family; not that they were planning any kissing like this with an audience, but it paid to be prepared. Dorian finally settled with Bull’s hands on his waist and with one of his hands on Bull’s shoulder and the other resting lightly on Bull’s chest.

 

Bull smiled internally as Dorian went up on his tiptoes to close the distance between them, using the hand on Bull’s shoulder to pull himself up.

 

Bull leant down and pressed their lips together.

  
Dorian’s mouth was warm and soft and moulded easily against Bull’s own; firm or giving at just the right moments. There was certainly no doubt that Dorian had done a lot of kissing in his time, but Bull had never really entertained the idea that his jumpiness had anything to do with inexperience.

 

Bull considered deepening the kiss, wondering how Dorian’s mouth would feel to his tongue, if Dorian would nip if pressed, or what noises Dorian might make if Bull did some biting of his own. Bull forced himself to behave however, opening his mouth, and Dorian’s with it, but not even swiping his tongue across Dorian’s lips

 

Dorian seemed to enjoy it nonetheless, and rose higher on his toes to push them closer together. Bull pulled back before either of them did anything they might regret.  He was here to help Dorian interact with his family, not seduce him, after all.

 

No matter how much fun, for both of them, the seduction route might be.

 

Dorian stared at him hazily a moment, mouth still slightly open and a soft little noise escaping him, fingers pressing into Bulls muscle.

 

Bull gave a satisfied little rumble which seemed to break the spell. Dorian coughed and seemed to remember himself and the image he was trying to present. He pulled his hands off Bull and turned away hurriedly, but it was far too late to hide his flushed face and heavy-lidded eyes. He crossed the room and grabbed his bag, reaching for the door.

 

“We aren’t leaving our things here?” Bull asked, licking his lips slightly; he could still taste whatever gloss Dorian used for his lips.

 

“If this goes poorly I’d like to be able to leave quickly; my father has found me at hotels before,”  Dorian said, holding the door open for Bull but still not looking at him. The soldier in Bull appreciated the forward thinking but the rest of him just felt bad that Dorian had cause to be so mistrustful of his family.

 

“Unless you don’t think you can manage carrying your bag back two flights of stairs?” Dorian asked. Bull almost smiled but the teasing sounded a little forced.

 

He picked up his own bag and followed Dorian back out to the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this took me longer than I hoped before I couldn't settle on exactly how I wanted to write Dorian's parents. I'm still not entirely sure but hopefully I'll work it out in the next chapter. Also, I had the date the Mini Bang drafts were due wrong so I had to drop everything to finish that in a hurry. To make up for it, this is the longest chapter yet.
> 
> It's not beta-ed because I'm lazy and wanted to post it now.

Dorian was barely containing his trembling as he hunched in the passenger seat.

All the warmth from the kiss, which had far more to do with that he hadn’t been kissed in a while and nothing at all to do with who was doing the kissing or how well he had done it, had faded. It was also not real, Dorian reminded himself. He shouldn’t be letting himself get caught up in a completely imagined relationship.

With the kiss no longer a distraction but another source of anguish, he was left with only with the anxiety that had been swirling in his gut since he had agreed to this meal weeks ago and been getting steadily worse the closer his childhood home he had gotten.

He forced himself to take deep, deliberate breaths, refusing to break down in front of the Iron Bull. He had a brief and panicked cry while he showered and he had hoped that would have allowed him to maintain control of himself until he was next alone. It didn’t look like he would be that lucky.

It wasn’t exactly sure what the worst or best outcomes of the dinner were, which was decidedly unhelpful. This could be the first step to repairing his broken relationship with his father, only he wasn’t sure if he wanted to repair that relationship, maybe he just wanted an opportunity to throw his perfect, albeit fabricated, life in their faces and leave. Then again, he might not got the opportunity for either, it was possible this was one last ditch attempt to bring him into line by luring him back into their sphere of influence and then hitting him hard on the back of the head.

He gave Bull a glance out of the corner of his eye. He supposed an ex-military Qunari would be useful back-up if that was the case.

The mental image of Bull punching his father in the face amused him for several seconds before it just made him anxious that it might actually have to happen and he was back to panicky tension again.

“If you’re going to think so loudly it would be polite to at least tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” Bull asked.

Dorian knew he was joking, but being back in Tevinter was making him fall back into old habits and he had to bite back an unnecessarily harsh reply. “I might be able tell you if I had any idea myself,” he said curtly, instead. 

“Do you know anything for certain?” Bull asked, and it was such a reasonable that Dorian wanted to hit him. He forced himself to calm down, to not allow his panic to turn into anger and certainly not then lash out at Bull who was only trying to help him.

Dorian shrugged, not trusting himself to speak.

“Then maybe you should try and figure out what you do know before worrying about what you don’t.” Bull glanced at him, staring too intently. Dorian hunched further in on himself, arms tightening across his chest. 

He wanted his father to feel bad about what he had done to him. He wanted to be able to leave this part of his life behind him, whether as a clean break with some sort of closure, or by moving past the muddied past with hope of a better relationship in the future. He wondered if it was petty that the only thing he felt for certain was that he wanted his father to feel bad, and wanted it far more strongly than he cared for any particular result.

He looked over at Bull. He felt oddly fond of him considering they had only met that morning.

He didn’t want his parents to treat Bull poorly. 

\---

Dorian tried not to fuss over his appearance but choices that had seemed sensible back in Skyhold now felt silly and he oscillated between feeling like he was trying to hard and not hard enough.

Should he really have removed some of his piercings to please his mother?

His father had seen the piercings when they had last spoken of course, and had said nothing about them, he hardly had a leg to stand on considering Dorian knew his father had healed over holes in his own ears and one in his lip, but his mother had always been scathing of them.

He should have left them all in, and brushed off any comments his mother had made. He was trying to get them to accept who he was, not who he had tried to be for their sake.

He had felt vaguely rebellious when he had decided to role his shirt sleeves up, revealing the tattoos his parents had hated so much but now it just felt like a childish tantrum when he had toned down his jewellery, removing some of his rings as well as his piercings, and his clothing was far closer to what they would deem acceptable than he normally wore to the fancy parties they had made him attend.

He hadn’t even made it into Tevinter before he’d starting making choices to please his family. He had a sudden sinking feeling that he had made an awful decision in coming back here.

“Bull, stop,” he said suddenly, and it took him a couple of seconds to realise it was him that had spoken. The moment he did all the panic hit him full on and he couldn’t breathe. “Bull! Stop the fucking car!”

Bull took one sharp look at him and slammed on the brakes, pulling them onto the hard shoulder. Bull hit the hazard lights as they came to a stop. Dorian shoved open the door of the car and staggered a few steps before his knees his the ground. A moment later and he was vomiting. 

“Dorian?” Bull was kneeling beside him, one hand rubbing soothing on Dorian’s back. 

Dorian stared down at the vomit between in front of him, heart still pounding wildly in his chest. His stomach rolled against and he only just managed to bite the bile back.

“I can’t do this.” He had hoped saying it aloud would make him feel relived but he mostly just felt like he was a failure. Again. He was disappointing Bull, who had driven him all the way here in his free time, disappointing himself, denying any chance of closure, and as always he was disappointing his father.

“Do you want to go back south?” Bull asked, guiding Dorian to sit up and move away from the vomit. They sat, leaning back against the car.

Dorian gave a bitter laugh. “We drove ten hours Bull; we can’t just turn around and go back.”

“If you want to, we can leave right now.” Bull sounded so sincere and Dorian realised he completely meant it. If Dorian asked him to they would get right back in the car and drive all the way south again. Somehow knowing that, knowing that Bull was completely on his side helped. He didn’t have to do this alone.

He took a deep, steading breath. “I need to do this.”

Bull nodded, climbing to feet with and offering Dorian a hand to pull himself up with. They both got back into the car but Bull let them sit in silence for a moment before Dorian nodded and Bull started up the engine. 

Bull started up the music against as they made it back onto the road but Dorian was determined to stay out of his own head. He also didn’t want to deal with any of the emotional vulnerability he was feeling so he decided to fall back on being an ass. 

“So, the Iron Bull,” he drawled, but he caught Bull smiling at his tone, “how exactly did you get into cooking.”

“After I left the army I needed to find something to keep busy.”

“And you decided that cooking was your calling?”

“Hey,” Bull shrugged, “I like food.”

“Yes,” Dorian said and gave Bull a once over. “I can tell.”

“That hurts, Dorian.” Bull took the opportunity of a give-way sign to shoot Dorian a kicked puppy look and Dorian couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter.

“But yeah,” Bull said, “I was always good at it, and I enjoyed it so I figured why not? It worked out pretty well for me.” 

Dorian looked down at his lap, where his hands lay, twisted together. He wasn’t looking out at the road but even after years away he knew his route like it had been yesterday. He didn’t need to look to know exactly how close they were.

“What about you, Big Guy?” Bull asked, jolting Dorian back to the conversation. “What are you going to do with two doctorates?” 

“Research, maybe,” Dorian said with a shrug. “I considered teaching, at university level of course-”

“Of course,” Bull agreed without really interrupting.

“- But I don’t really have the temperament. I could write books, or work in a lab, or get another degree.” There was a certain freeness that came with having no solid plans for the future. It had been terrifying at first, considering he had been brought up with a future already planned for him, but now that he viewed it as a polar opposite to his families plan, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Brave of you to live like that. I knew I was going to be in the army for as long as I can remember and I was terrified when I left and found myself with no idea of what I was going to do. I was lucky to have some good friends to help keep me in check.” 

“I want to go back to Tevinter at some point,” Dorian admitted slowly. He rarely put this desire into words, it always felt like a child’s dream when said out loud. “For good. Try and change some of the worst that goes here, make a difference.” 

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question but Dorian answered anyway. “I know there’s so much wrong with it, and I left for good reasons, but I can’t help but feel like she could be so much more if we let her. Tevinter has such a rich history, and not all of it is bathed in slaves’ blood, and I wish we could remember the good parts and move forward.”

“There’s nowhere like your home,” Bull agreed. 

“No, there isn’t.”

\---

They drove off the main road, onto a slightly narrower, private one at Dorian’s instruction. There was a gate a quarter mile along the road that Bull had to pause in front of. There was a camera set up to watch them and it opened after only a moment, without either Bull or Dorian having to address the speakers on the driver’s side of the road.

It was another mile along the road before the house came into view and Dorian was unsurprised to hear Bull gave an impressed whistle beside him. Dorian himself was struggling with conflicting feelings of apprehension and a strange sense of homeliness.

“Park here,” Dorian said, indicating a point to the side of the large drive, one hundred metres or so from the front door. It was out of the way and mostly sheltered by large trees.

“Fancy place like this doesn’t have parking?” Bull asked.

“They do, but I’d rather keep the keys and not have to wait for someone to bring the car back around when we want to leave.” His father had stopped him from leaving before, and while Dorian hoped he wouldn’t try that again, he didn’t want to make it any easier.

Bull didn’t press the issue and parked where he had been told. 

It had started to rain while they had been driving, so Dorian hurried to collect a bottle of wine from among his things, before they hurried to the door.

Dorian paused to straighten his clothing before he reached for the door. His hand hovered over the knocker for a second, reminded himself that he wasn’t having to do this alone, and closed his hand around the intricately carved wood.

He banged it twice and took a step backwards. They were both silent as they waited.

An older elf answered the door, who Dorian recognised almost instantly.

“Mister Pavus, please, you and your guest come in.” Cyrion had worked for Dorian’s family as long as he could remember.

Cyrion glanced between Bull and Dorian and he gave Dorian, a tiny, pleased smile, that Dorian would might have missed if he wasn’t so used to the subtle expressions the servants allowed themselves. It hadn’t even occurred to Dorian that there would be anyone aside from his family here who would care about his return, and if there had been it seemed unlikely that they would see him more as their employers son, who had been the cause of no small number of yelling matches, he certainly hadn’t thought there might be some who would be on his side.

It shouldn’t been all that surprising now he thought about it; Cyrion had after all pushed food into his hands the night Dorian had left, and even hugged him before Dorian had slipped out of the door, wishing him good luck. While his parents had believed in taking a rather active role in raising their child that didn’t mean he hadn’t had an army of servants who had also had a hand in his upbringing.

Cyrion led them down into a hallway and into a large, open room with a grand fireplace. There were impressively stacked bookcases along one of the walls and large windows along another. The other two walls were decorated with paintings of various members of the Pavus family, both current and past. In the centre of the room were some comfortable looking chairs surrounding a low table.

“Magisters Pavus and Thalrassian will be with you shortly, would you like anything to drink while you wait?” Dorian hadn’t been able to place the accent as a child, beyond it being foreign, but he could now clearly recognise it was Ferelden. 

Thank you, Cyrion. I’m quite all right. Bull?” Dorian was still tense, but even though it could be considered enemy territory in this situation, being in his childhood home was comforting. When they had approached the house, Bull had moved closer to, into his personal space and he now put an arm around Dorian’s waist. He allowed himself to relax a little further. 

“I’m fine, thanks.” Bull said to Cyrion.

“Thank please allow me to take your coats,” Cyrion said, reaching out to help Dorian out of his who shrugged it off without a thought. Bull looked more awkward as he handed his coat of to Cyrion. Cyrion gave a little bow and disappeared out of the door.

“I mean I knew it was going to be big but…” Bull whistled. “You grew up with people waiting on you like that?”

Dorian shrugged, uncomfortable. He’d worked hard to convince a lot of people in the south he wasn’t a spoilt brat just because of his upbringing but he’d never actually had to convince anyone when they could see one of the houses he’d spent a lot of time in. Somehow, he knew saying that all the other property, with the exception of the manner in the country, were smaller than this wouldn’t help.

“It’s not as flashy as some of the other ‘Vint houses I’ve seen though.

“My father always believed that flash, as you put it, was just a foolish bragging competition that he refused to be involved in. He wanted things to good nice, but not for the sake of looking more expensive than everyone else’s.” Dorian went and sat in one of the chairs, fidgeting with the rings still on his hands. He had been in this room before, but never as a waiting guest, always playing host along with his family. It put him on edge.

Bull dropped down next to him, and took one of Dorian’s hands in his own, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“If you ever want to go, just tell,” Bull said, and for a second Dorian considered kissing him he was so grateful. He settled instead on gripping Bull’s hand tightly.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting Bull’s eye.

“Sure.”

“I mean it,” Dorian insisted. He hated moments like this but he had no idea how either of them were about to be treated and he wanted to make certain Bull knew. “I know you’re only here because you owe Varric a favour, but after Felix had to pull out I had no idea how I was going to get through this dinner. I’m glad you came with me.” He finished awkwardly, forcing himself to remain looking straight at Bull.

Bull gave him a small, sickeningly sweet smile that made Dorian’s stomach lurch. He could just kiss Bull. If it Bull responded negatively Dorian could claim he was just practising again. He should kiss Bull.

“Dorian.” Magister Halward Pavus entered the room from a different door. His was tense as he stared at Bull but Doiran looked up too quickly to catch if that tension was a response to Bull or stemming from a similar anxiety as Dorian’s own about the dinner in general.

Dorian was on his feet before he had even really thought about it, snatching his hand away from Bull. Bull followed suit a moment later.

“This is the Iron Bull,” Dorian said, before Halward could comment. He felt like a child again, feeling foolish under his father’s gaze like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t and was about to be sent to his room without dinner. “Bull, this is my father, Magister Pavus.”

“The Iron Bull,” Halward repeated slowly and Dorian couldn’t even begin to read the expression on Halward’s face. Both his parents were talented enough politicians to be able to slip easily into polite, semi-interested expressions without a though, no matter what they were actually feeling.

“Nice to meet you,” Bull said, and he sounded so painful casual in comparison to Dorian and his father. Instead of causing Dorian to tense he could only fight back a smile.

“This is the partner you mentioned when we last spoke?” Halward asked, and Dorian knew his father well enough to catch the exasperated disapproval that Dorian had come to accustomed to towards the end of time in Tevinter.

“Yes, father,” Dorian said, tone clipped. “I did inform you I would be bringing him.”

Yes, you did.” Halward inhaled and exhaled audibly. “I’m glad you came,” he said, looking at Dorian before adding, though it sounded like it physically pained him to do so, “both of you.”

Before Dorian could respond, the door opened again, and his mother appeared, striding in to stand beside her husband. She was over dressed for the occasion, and Dorian suddenly felt inadequate with his rolled up shirt sleeves. That had likely been the point.

She looked over them both Dorian and Bull slowly, sneering slightly, unlike Halward making no attempt to hide her distaste.

“Mother, this is-” Dorian started.

“I heard,” She said. “The Qunari is your boyfriend.” 

Dorian wondered if it was too late to turn on his heal at leave. His mother’s attention was entirely on him and Bull, managing to pour a painful mixture of disapproval and disinterest into her expression, like Dorian was throwing a tantrum that was beneath her to acknowledge. Halward seemed torn between trying to keep his surely negative response, to finding out his son was involved with a Qunari, hidden, while also actively being frustrated that his wife wasn’t making the same attempt.

It had been years since Dorian had had to face them both at the same time; he had forgotten how exhausting it was.

Cyrion reappeared at Halward’s shoulder, speaking quietly into his ear. Halward nodded.

“We should move through to the dining room,” Halward said and turned to lead the way through. Aquinea stepped up to his side, taking his arm, as was expected. Bull, much to Dorian’s surprise, and amusement, caught on to the position and offered his arm to Dorian, with a smirk. Dorian failed at biting back his own smile and accepted. 

“I can’t believe we are wasting food on that ox,” Aquinea said at just the right volume that Dorian couldn’t tell if he was intended to overheat or not. 

“Be civil, for Dorian’s sake,” Halward snapped, but he didn’t disagree.

Aquinea made a dismissive noise which showed exactly what she thought of that idea.

Dorian considered simply running again, and only Bull’s arm, looped through his, stopped him from fleeing entirely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Finally! This chapter kicked my ass in so many ways, but I finally finished it! Hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long.
> 
>  
> 
> [Dichotomous-Dragon](http://dichotomous-dragon.tumblr.com/) was kind enough to take a quick look over this chapter for me, because I wanted it up as soon as possible. They are a sweetheart, go give them love.

Bull did not like Dorian’s parents.

 

He had sort of expected that to be the case, and knew he had entered the evening already with a bias based solely on how Dorian talked about them, but it was good to have met them and have those suspicions confirmed.

 

Halward was perhaps an inch shorter than Dorian, which was something considering Dorian was only just scrapping average, but his wife towered over both them, and she wore heels to exaggerate the difference. When she looked at her husband she did it by staring down her nose at him. Halward acted very convincingly like he neither noticed nor cared, but he couldn’t quite hide how every time she did that he straightened his back ever so slightly, correcting his already excellent posture.

                                                                 

In return Halward seemed to be attempting to act as though he lived in a version of reality were she didn’t exist, and whenever he was forced to acknowledge that that wasn’t actually case he made a face like he was sucking lemons.

 

He had contemplated feeling sorry for them, being trapped in a clearly miserable marriage, but had moved very quickly to silent rage for trying to force an equally unhappy marriage on their son. He dreaded to think what Dorians childhood must have been like, being raised by people who so clearly despised one another.

 

At least the servant seemed to be on Dorian’s side.

 

Halward worried his hands together in much the same way Dorian did, and when he frowned his nose scrunched, just like Dorian’s. Physically, Dorian took as much after his mother as his father, but his mannerisms were all Halward.

 

They sat at the table, Halward and Aquinea on one side, Dorian and Bull on the other. There was enough space along each side for each pair to give each other plenty of room, and while Dorian’s parents took advantage of that opportunity, Bull shifted his chair close enough that he could subtly touch Dorian under the table.

 

Considering that when their feet knocked Dorian didn’t draw his away, Bull could only assume Dorian appreciated it.

 

A couple more servants appeared, pouring wine into Aquinea’s glass without having to be asked, and doing the same for Halward when he nodded. Bull declined, wanting to remain sober, but Dorian gave an almost fanatic nod, and took a drink almost before as the servant had stopped pouring.  Halward watched Dorian with an emotion that even Bull couldn’t place, but Bull noticed that Halward barely touched his own drink.

 

They made painfully awkward small talk, no one daring to broch any subject even vaguely personal, but the tension at the table was still almost palpable.

 

“Do button up your collar, Dorian,” Aquinea said, frowning at him, starting on her second glass of wine, just as a conversation about the latest ruins from the pre-Divine Age to be found in the area was winding down.

 

Dorian made a strange jerking motion with his hands as he instinctually went to obey before thinking better of it. He clenched his hands into fists and Dorian and his mother stared at each other across the table. There was a tense silence, that Bull struggled to read, but if he wasn’t mistaken Aquinea was pleased.

 

“What is it you do, Iron Bull?” Halward intersected, breaking the moment, and Dorian let out an audible sigh of relief.

 

“I’m a chef,” Bull said, wanting to place a hand on Dorian to remind him he wasn’t alone in this, but not wanting to be too obvious. He settled for nudging Dorian’s knee with his.

 

“Are you good?” Halward asked, but there was a disinterested air to it, like he had already catalogued the information along with his own assumptions, and nothing Bull said about the matter would stick.

 

“He’s very good,” Dorian snapped, glaring at his father. Aquinea tutted, drawing a large mouthful of wine from her glass. Everyone at the table ignored her.

  
“I didn’t mean it like that, Dorian,” Halward said, and he looked like it took him physical effort not to roll his eyes.

 

Dorian took a very visual, deep breath. “He runs some high end restaurants in Skyhold. I’ll admit, I was surprised at first too.”

 

And that, Bull thought, was the crux of the difference between Dorian and Halward. They were similar in a lot of ways, even in their assumptions, but while Dorian was willing to be proven wrong, and grew from them, Halward seemed set in his ways. Bull wondered how much pride swallowing it had taken Halward to issue an apology and ask Dorian here.

 

The natural flow of conversation suggested that Halward or Aquinea should promise to try one of Bull’s restaurants, no matter how empty a promise it was, but it was far too early in the reunion for Halward to presume like that, and so there was an awkward silence instead.

 

Before the moment could stretch on too long, and before anyone could push the conversation on to other matters, some servants appeared from other doors, all carrying fancy plates with equally fancy food on them.

 

Bull was a good enough chef to know good food when he saw it, and he’d be damned if this wasn’t good food. The smell of it was making his mouth water, and he made a mental note to talk to the kitchen staff before they left. The Pavus family might be assholes, but it seemed they valued nice food, and Bull could appreciate that.

 

Aquinea waited only until Dorian’s had been placed on the table before she picked up her fork and speared herself some food, and Bull didn’t fail to notice how Halward’s jaw tightened, and the way he threw accusing looks at the staff, who managed to avoid his gaze. The staff didn’t seem to poorly treated, but he couldn’t figure out exactly where their loyalty lay, perhaps it was mixed.

 

Dorian dug in as soon as everyone had a plate in front of them, seemingly using it as a choice to avoid eye contact, and while Bull continued watching he also dug in; he was not disappointed in finding the food as good as it looked and smelled. Halward on the other hand, barely touched his food, and Bull wondered if it was out of anxiety, or some other reason.

 

Bull noted that he was lucky his line of work meant he was aware of the correct culinary practise. He was more than aware of how the upper class, perhaps unconsciously, used such knowledge to test their guests. Had Bull not known which knife and fork to start with, it would have proved to Dorian’s parents that he was nothing but a clumsy oaf, too stupid to know the correct fork.

 

Never mind that it was all irrelevant in the end.

 

“I hear you are still in school?” Halward asked, after they had all started eating.

 

Dorian glanced, up eyes weary but nodded. “Yes, I’m working on my second doctorate, in Physics this time.”

 

Halward nodded approvingly. “There’s a lot more career options in physics than in history.”

 

“I suppose,” Dorian looked back down, grip on his fork tightening.

 

“I don’t know,” Bull said, “there are some good research positions in Skyhold, a lot of history there still to uncover.”

 

All eyes were on him for a second before they went back to talking as though he hadn’t spoken, and Bull could gather this was an old conversation.

 

“What are you writing your dissertation on?” Halward asked instead, trying to move into less disagreeable topic.

 

“Bose-Einstein Condensation in Microgravity.”

 

Halward nodded. “Magister Drusus wrote an article that might be of interest to you.”

 

Dorian pulled a face. “I read it, she had an interesting thesis, but her writing style almost made it more trouble than it was worth.”

 

Halward gave a short laugh, and everyone at the table seemed surprised, including himself. “You aren’t wrong. She always did have a rather portentous manner.”

 

Dorian smiled nervously in return.

 

“How are you finding the universities in the South?”

 

“Different,” Dorian said, “but I expected that. There is far less elitism, which is refreshing, but there is more difficulty finding people who specialise in my topic.”

 

“Is the teaching up to the quality you could receive had you chosen to stay here?” Halward seemed to realise he had made a misstep a second before Dorian’s smile slipped. He hurried to try and correct it. “I seem to recall you enjoyed studying under Professor Alexius.”

 

“I did, until he started donating to political parties that advocated the murdering of non-Tevene nationals. Much less of that in the South.” Dorian was glaring.

 

“What are your plans for the future?” Aquinea intersected, scathingly. “I assume you still don’t have any, beyond wasting your money and potential.”

 

“That was more or less the plan,” Dorian snapped.

 

Aquinea scoffed. “At least it’s your money now, not ours. Though,” she turned her gaze to Bull. “Maybe it’s his. You should watch yourself _the Iron Bull,_ this wouldn’t be the first time that Dorian’s offered himself up in return for funds.”

 

The flat of Halward’s palm hit the table, and he and Aquinea glared at each other, and for a second Bull thought one of them might strike the other, though which would be doing it was anyone’s guess.

 

Dorian dropped his cutlery onto his empty plate, and the clatter broke the intense star off. Halward sighed, long, and exhausted.

 

“Are you happy?” He asked Dorian.

 

Dorian hesitated, and glanced at Bull, and Bull wondered if that was a look seeking help, or some really good acting.

 

“Yes,” he said slowly, “I am.”

 

“Good,” Halward said, content to pretend that his wife hadn’t spoken. “That’s good.”

 

Halward was looking at Dorian who was staring down at his plate, a small, hopeful look in his eye. Bull glanced between them mostly, while Aquinea lunged back in her chair, watching them all like they were her own personal entertainment. She glanced at Bull, smirking ever so slightly, and Bull got it.

 

Aquinea was a fucking genius and was playing both Halward and Dorian. Whenever Halward stepped too close to fucking up, she would effortlessly say something far worse, pulling all the attention back to her, smoothing over Halward and Dorian’s relationship.

 

If Bull could have, he would have applauded her.  He raised his eyebrows at her instead and her smile widened minutely. She must be dangerous in the magisterium.

 

More servants appeared to gather the plates, all empty except Halward’s, and Bull almost made a comment about the small portions served as starters. He had always stood by the idea that even good food should be served in reasonable quantities.

 

There was another silence threatening to fall, and this time Bull was unwilling to be a part of it. “What do magisters do when not, you know, magistering,” he asked, and Halward’s eyes snapped to him like he had forgotten Bull was there.

 

“Aside from sexually disappointing their wives?” Aquinea murmured into her glass. Bull had to bite back a loud snort of laughter. He couldn’t tell if Halward was genuinely ignoring the comment or if Bull had only heard because of his superior hearing. He wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

 

“We have an extensive library, which I’m sure Dorian has told you about; he practically lived there from the moment he was tall enough to open the door.” Halward’s mouth twitched at the memory. “Also, extension of politics involves a great deal of socialising, which takes up much of our free time.”

 

Dorian had actually mentioned the library in even the brief time they’d known each other.

 

The servants arrived carrying more plates of food. Bull could smell the spice in the air, and a plate with a rich curry was placed before him. Dorian was looking suspicious, but inhaled deeply, licking his lips.

 

“After you travelled all this way, we thought it was only fair to give you your favourite,” Aquinea said to Dorian. “I dread to think what you’ve been eating in the South.”

 

“I’m lucky I have Bull to cook for me.” Dorian said, pointedly.

 

“Bet this’ll make you happy.” Bull nudged Dorian.

 

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Halward said, but he looked amused. Even Dorian’s affront seemed put on; for a moment this looked like it could almost be a normal family.        

 

“Oh?” Bull asked.

 

“I’m sure Dorian will find something to complain about, it’s a gift of his, albeit one that has severed him well in many occasions.”

 

“I never complained more than the exactly appropriate amount,” Dorian said. He was smiling.

 

“I mean, you do still complain that I don’t get the spices quite right for your taste,” Bull said. He gave Dorian a lopsided smile.

 

Dorian sat up a little, frowning, but some of the tension in his shoulders. He opened his mouth to defend himself.

 

“He takes after you in that, dear.” Aquinea gaze challenged Halward to disagree with her. She had a nearly full glass, and Bull knew she had been drinking almost constantly. He’d actually lose count of how many she’d had.

 

Once again, the food was delicious, and Bull decided he was going to have to take a closer look into Tevene food. Stuff this spicy wouldn’t sell too well in the South, but he knew there were some clientele that would love it.

 

Dorian was making near-pornographic noises in the chair next him, as he shovelled food into his mouth like it was about to vanish. Absently, Bull wondered if he would make the same noises around Bull’s dick.

 

Bull almost dropped his fork as he caught up with the thought. Dorian was hot, and oddly charming, but now was really not the time to think about how good Dorian would look all blissed out from an orgasm and in Bull’s bed. Bull bit the inside of his mouth, forcing himself to drop the line of thought completely before his dick took note of the proceedings.  

 

“Please don’t choke, Dorian,” Aquinea said. “There’s no need to put that much in your mouth at once.”

 

Bull stopped and looked up. Maybe he had a dirty mind, but that had come out a little wrong.  Across the table Halward had made almost the exact same motion as Bull, eyebrows knitted together. Bull would have bet his horns that Halward’s mind had gone to the exact same place as his. Nice to know the Magister had had some fun before settling down to a shitty marriage and abusing his son.

 

Halward picked that moment to look away from his wife and made eye-contact with Bull.

 

 

Now he _knew_ that Halward had gone straight to “blow-job” when hearing about putting too much in your mouth, _and,_ he knew that Bull had gone straight there too.  The stared awkwardly at each other for what felt like far too long.

 

Halward coughed and looked very pointedly back at his plate.

 

Dorian rolled his eyes, but did slow down his eating. The noises only mostly faded though, lingering at low levels Bull was pretty sure only he could hear.

 

“Are you still in contact with Professor Tilani? She spoke well of you the last time we crossed paths.”

 

The rest of the conversation actually went well for most of dinner, and the awkwardness started to fade, but their brief ceasefire quickly started to disintegrate as Aquinea got drunker, her skilled manoeuvring slipping more with each mouthful of wine, until she was simply sneering at all of them.

 

She finished another glass just as the table was cleared.  Halward made a gesture to one of the servants, indicating that they shouldn’t gave Aquinea more wine.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, not looking at him, but held her glass in the direction of the servant. The girl looked very much like a deer in headlights, eyes darting between her two employers. Halward gritted his teeth, and gave a ‘go ahead’ gesture. The servant poured a generous portion of wine into Aquinea’s cup and then fled the room.  She swirled the glass, looking down into the deep red, looking at them all over the rim.

 

“You didn’t mention your boyfriend was a Qunari.” It was an obvious misstep, one that Bull had thought Halward was too clever to make. Aquinea seemed to have a gift in putting Halward on edge.

 

Dorian didn’t even look up from his food, and while Bull looked at Halward, Halward was still staring straight at Dorian. A glance over at Aquinea revealed that she was looking at Bull, smiling like she was considering having his head stuffed and mounted.

 

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Dorian said, playing with the remains of his food without lifting any of it to his mouth. “After all, I’m sure you lost interest in giving him a chance, knowing what he had between his legs. That he has horns as well should be of little interest to you.

 

“I was just making an observation, Dorian. There is no need to take things to personally.”

 

“ _I’m_ taking things personally? When-”

 

Aquinea laughed bitterly, cutting Dorian off and then addressing Halward. “He’s trying to wind you up, _Dear,_ just like he’s always done. Acting out for your attention. That you are not only falling for it, but encouraging it with this ridiculous sham of a dinner, is almost laughable.”

 

“We have company,” Halward ground out.

 

“That thing hardly counts.”

 

“Aquinea, we agreed-” Halward warned.

 

“We didn’t agree to anything, you decided, and hoped I would fall into line.”

 

“Aquinea-”

 

“Apparently I have to remind you that it’s a _Qunari_ he’s brought home! I don’t want one in my house, I _know_ what they’re like. You’ll be wise to remember I lost my first fiancée in Seheron.” Dorian stared at his plate, his body shaking ever so slightly.

 

“If Dorian-”

 

“Dorian has always known he can get away with anything. Even after everything, you still go crawling back for his approval and refuse to make steps to get a new heir.” She was slurring ever so slightly. Her careful manipulation was gone, and she was just an angry, drunk woman. Bull wished he could take Dorian from this awful family and have him never look back.

 

A new servant entered, dressed smartly but not as butler. “Magister, might I have a word?” That he was totally unconcerned about the argument said a lot about Halward and Aquinea’s relationship.  Halward stood, taking a deep, calming breath, and walked over to join the servant. Aquinea raised her wine glass back to her mouth.

 

“Do you want to leave?” Bull asked, leaning close, taking advantage of Halward’s distraction. Dorian shrugged helplessly.

 

“I don’t know. He is trying. I’m just…” Dorian trailed off, shrugging again.

 

“You’re just not sure it’s enough?” Bull asked.

 

Dorian nodded.

 

“I can’t make this choice for you Big Guy.” Bull nudged Dorian shoulder with his own.

 

“Dinner is almost finished,” Dorian said with a sigh. “Let’s see it though. This could be my only chance at this.”

 

Bull put his arm around Dorian’s shoulder, ignoring Aquinea’s glare. Dorian leant into him. Dorian started picking at the remains of his food again, but Bull looked over at Halward.

 

Halward was frowning and Bull couldn’t help but listen in on the hushed conversation.

 

“Are you certain there’s nothing to be done,” Halward was saying, frustration evident in his voice.

 

“No, Sir.” The servant looked unhappy, but not scared of Halward.

 

“I was told it had been dealt with.”

 

“Shoddy workmanship, it seems. I’ll make sure the contractors are dealt with appropriately,” the servant responded.

 

“Good, you can go,” Halward said. The servant bowed, and slipped out of the room. Halward turned back towards the table. He was digging the nail of his thumb into his opposite palm.

 

“What did he have to say?” Dorian asked, and Bull could see all the tension was back in Dorian’s hunched form.

 

“The road to the manor has flooded, you remember it was an issue? Apparently the people we hired where incompetent, I’ll-” Halward was worrying his hands again.

 

“So we’ll have to stay the night?” Dorian asked.

 

Halward looked sour. “It certainly does appear that way.”

 

Aquinea let out a long sigh. “Your old rooms aren’t ready to be slept in, Dorian. I’ll see that the servants make up a guest room for you.” She looked at Bull’s horns. “One were we don’t mind ruining the headboard.”

 

“Thank you,” Bull said, because Dorian looked a little like he might be sick.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's been forever. This is what happens when I try to write something without proper chapter notes, I suddenly get to a point were I realise I don't really know what happens next, or where the fic is going, or if it has anything that could be considered a conclusion. Anyway, I'm back working on this now, and the next chapter is half written so we can hope that it will come soon.
> 
> Also, this chapter is dedicated to the anon that reminded me to get my shit together and post more of this.

Dinner finished quickly after the announcement, likely skipping dessert, but no one made any mention of it, and Dorian had no desire to press the issue.

 

He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t have it in him to make even the barest attempt at polite conversation. Instead he took even more advantage of Bull than he already had and pressed himself into Bull's side. This wasn't like before, he reminded himself, he wasn't being trapped in some lesser known estate by his father. He wasn't alone this time.

  
  
He nodded when Bull looked at him before passing over the car keys to a servant. A quick escape was useless to plan for when the road was blocked. A servant Dorian didn't recognise led them up to the guest wing. He was glad he wasn't in his old rooms, this felt more temporary. Bull was a quiet but comforting presence the entire time. His mother had vanished, two servants hurrying after her while Halward made a show of saying good night.

  
  
"All right, Dorian?" Bull asked, once they were alone in the room.

  
  
"Wait." He didn't explain why. The room was silent for several minutes and Dorian distracted himself by focusing on his breathing, using a calming pattern Felix had taught him.

  
  
There were silent until Cyrion and two other servants arrived carrying their bags from the car.

  
  
"Where would you like these?" Cyrion asked and Dorian shrugged. The bags were placed by the wall.

  
  
"Could I have a word, Cyrion?"

  
  
The other servants, one of who he knew reported directly back to his mother exchanged a look but left without a word.

  
  
"What can I do for you?" Cyrion asked. He stepped closer to Dorian and placed a hand on his shoulder; it was the friendliest gesture Dorian had received from anyone other than Bull since walking into the house.

  
  
"Is the road truly flooded naturally or is this some trick my father has thought up?"

  
  
Cyrion exhaled slowly.

  
  
"I don't know for certain, but if you want my opinion...?" Dorian waved a hand impatiently to get him too continue; he was hyper aware of Bull watching him.

 

 "There has been on going trouble with the road, and there have been attempts to fix it. I'm not sure how he could fake the flooding, he couldn't predicted the rain."

 

Dorian wanted to push the matter further, insist Cyrion investigate for him, but he also didn’t want to force Cyrion go against Halward, his employer.

 

“Thank you,” he said, biting down the urge to find out more.

 

“You’ve welcome.” Cyrion gave a small bow, very deliberately turning his body to include Bull in the gesture before leaving the room.

 

Dorian sank down onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t look up as the mattress dipped and Bull placed a heavy arm around his shoulder.

 

“We aren’t trapped here,” Bull said, his steady voice providing some comfort even as Dorian scoffed.

 

“And how to you reason that? Your car is here, and not going anywhere soon. Are you suggesting we walk back?”

 

“No, but we could walk to the main road, calling a taxi, or a favour from a friend, I do have one or two contacts in Tevinter, believe it or not. We just need get to a train station, or the hotel and lay low there until we can leave.”

 

Dorian swallowed. “Your car would be here.”

 

“I’ll have someone pick it up for me,” Bull said with a shrug, as if it was nothing.

 

Dorian considered it. Bull was right. They weren’t trapped there. The last time Dorian had left he had had far less options, and had been alone. He could do this, he didn’t need to panic.

 

“I’m not saying it’s ideal, but the option's there, if you need it.” Bull gave Dorian a lopsided smile, and Dorian felt a rush of gratitude. He wished he was better at expressing himself; he wanted Bull to know exactly how grateful he was. Bull spoke again before he could convince himself to say anything. “Anyway, what are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?”

 

Dorian stared at the bed. It was large and Dorian knew from experience how comfortable it was, and how lovely and soft the sheets were. The duvet was thick and warm and the pillows gloriously fluffy; he would trade anything to be spending the night at the hotel they had booked, but this bed made Dorian’s mouth water in a desire for the sort of luxury he hadn’t had since he had left.

 

The problem of course was, that there was only one of these magnificent beds in the room. 

 

“I can take the floor,” Bull said, before Dorian had a chance to speak.

 

Dorian startled at the offer. He had half expected Bull to suggest only one of them sleep in the bed, but he hadn’t expected Bull to volunteer for the floor so readily; Dorian himself was nowhere near as selfless. It was nice, to have someone worry about him as much as Bull seemed to. Though Dorian had no illusions about needing the protectiveness and nor did he think that it was anything to do with him in particular. It seemed, in fact, just the sort of person Bull was.

 

It would have been nice to think that Bull was only offering because it was him.

 

Dorian forced himself to abandon the train of thought; he needed to keep this friendly.

 

“While that is a very generous offer, it really would be best if we share it. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to send some of her servants to check on us, and I would rather not explain why my boyfriend and I are not sharing a bed.” Dorian gut churned suddenly at the thought of being found out and how pathetic it would look. He wasn’t willing to risk that.

 

Bull shrugged. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

 

“You will hardly be the first man I’ve shared a bed with,” Dorian said with a roll of his eyes. He rummaged through his bag to find his pajamas and toiletries. It wasn’t a lie exactly, he had shared beds with men in the past, but he would rather Bull didn’t know how rare that had been, or how long since it had last happened. Tevinter affairs didn’t lead themselves well to sleeping together after, well, _sleeping together._

 

Dorian disappeared into the bathroom, giving them both some privacy to ready themselves for bed. He had a quick shower, not lingering in the gloriously powerful spray, sometimes he really missed being rich, and redressed himself in his a loose pair of trousers and t-shirt.

 

“Oh, and Bull, please to refrain from damaging the pillowed with your horns,” Dorian called through from the bathroom, putting his toothbrush back into his toiletries bag.

 

“I didn’t think you’d mind accidental damage to your parents’ property.”

  
“Hardly.” Dorian stepped out of the bathroom and his breath caught in his throat. Bull was climbing into bed, wearing only a pair loose fitting trousers, showing off the large expanse of his muscled back. Dorian swallowed, and continued before Bull could catch him gapping. “But, I fully intend to try and steal one, and I would much prefer it didn’t have a hole in it.”

 

Bull laughed, and Dorian could see exactly how his chest moved with the noise.

 

There had been several months were Dorian had tried to convince himself he wasn’t gay, that it was very natural to look at men the way he did, and it didn’t mean he didn’t like women. Only an increasing number of attractive men had forced him to accept that that really wasn’t the case, and wanting to lick a man’s skin was not the behaviour of a straight man. If he had seen Bull with his shirt of during that time, his sexuality crisis would have been much shorter.

 

Dorian climbed into the bed next to Bull, and let out a sigh at how comfortable the bed was. He buried his face into the pillows, and wondered why he had hadn’t taken one with him the first time he had left. Maybe, he should play nice with his family and convince them to send him a bed for his next birthday.

 

“You weren’t kidding about the bed, Dorian. Damn, I might have to join you in stealing a couple of these pillows.” Bull wiggled slightly in the bed, testing the mattress’ give.

 

“Honestly, if your car was big enough, I would be suggesting we take the whole bed.”

 

“Hey, maybe, Cyrion can find us a screwdriver, we can take it apart and while you distract Mum and Dad Pavus, I’ll move it to the car.”

 

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see how polite they are at breakfast.”

 

“Though,” Bull mused aloud. “It might create more problems than it’s worth. Would we have joint custody of the bed? You get it during the week and I get it on the weekends, but one Saturday a month we both have to play nice for the bed’s sake and all have dinner together.”

 

Dorian bite his lip to keep from laughing again, turning away and hiding his face in the pillow. “You are a ridiculous man. Go to sleep.”

 

Bull laughed again, but softer, and it made Dorian feel oddly warm to know he was the cause of the sound.

 

“Night, Dorian. If you need to talk during the night just nudge me until I wake up.”

 

Dorian wondered if he had had any other friends, except Felix, who would make such an offer to him. He reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. “I will, thank you.”

 

\---

 

Dorian woke pressed against a warm body. His face was pressed into their side which shifted under him, slowly rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

 

His first thought was that it was probably Sera. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d fallen asleep on top of each other after a night of excessive drinking, but he quickly realised that there wasn’t a pointy elbow digging into his side, or a knee in his crotch, which made Sera an unlikely candidate.

 

He cracked an eye open to try and see who he was pressed up against. He came face to face with a chest, a lot of chest, and by tilting his head he saw yet more chest, and then shoulders, and then…

 

_Shit._

 

Dorian jerked back, almost falling out of bed in his hurry to get away from Bull. He sat at the very edge of the bed, clutching his blankets to his chest, staring in horror at Bull’s sleeping form. He knew he sometimes snuggled things in his sleep, some past partners had commented on it, but he never done it with someone he hadn’t just had sex with, or if he wasn’t off-his-face drunk.

 

His heart pounded beneath his ribs. Had Bull fallen asleep before Dorian had wiggled into his space? He couldn’t imagine having to face the man the next day if he hadn’t. He flushed red at the very thought of Bull’s teasing. Or, worse, what if Bull thought he had done it on purpose and was weirded out by it. Bull was here doing him a favour and Dorian was creeping on him in his sleep.

 

Maybe he could pass it off as being out of sorts knowing he was under the same roof as his parents.

 

Fuck. He was under the same roof as his parents, with a Qunari he was only pretending was his boyfriend, with no known end in sight. This had seemed like such a good idea when he was planning it, and it was only going to be an evening, with a friend, now he just felt stupid. He shouldn’t have come here at all.

 

Dorian hauled himself out of bed, padding over to the bathroom, closing the door and then turning on the light. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were cornered with sleep, and while still handsome, he was aware that he looked plainer without his make-up.

 

He sighed, turning the tap and splashing his face with water.

 

He needed to pull himself together.

 

Bull was right, he wasn’t trapped here. Worst case scenario, he could leave and never look back at this place, cut off all contact with his family, go back south, finish his doctorate, meet a nice man who would fuck him roughly over a desk, marry the man, maybe adopt a lizard as a pet. Best case scenario, his father really was serious in making up for what he had done, and he could maybe having something resembling a relationship with his parents again; everything from that point would ideally be the same except his parents might actually attend his wedding.

 

As for Bull, he would deal with him tomorrow. Bull had been understanding do far, he would surely be understanding about this. Dorian could still feel Bull’s skin under his cheek, warm and soft. His chest was harder than it looked, only a thin layer of fat over hard muscle. He was also pleasingly large.

 

Dorian swore under his breath and splashed his face with more cold water before returning to the bedroom.

 

He climbed back into the bed, turning so he was facing away from Bull, and tried not to listen too closely to the sound of Bull breathing while he slowly drifted back to sleep.


End file.
